One Big Girl in a Great Big Safe & Healthy World.

Monday is Labor Day. It is the quintessential day off. A (more sweet, than bitter) bittersweet 3-day weekend.

Many see it as the official end of summer. The end of vacations and lazy days. Or some see it as the beginning of a new school year or the coming of fall and a respite from the heat.

It is all of those things and so much more. Labor Day is the day we celebrate the contribution workers have made in the strength, viability, prosperity, and overall well-being of our nation.

While nationally, our first Labor Day was the first September Monday in 1894, it had been celebrated in many states in the decade before. It began as a holiday created by carpenters and machinists as a “workingmen’s holiday”. A way for the backbone of our nation to celebrate and honor each other, the work that they do and the role that they play as the bedrock of American ideals, standards, fortitude, and freedom.

In 1909, the first Sunday of September was deemed “Labor Sunday” and is dedicated to the educational and spiritual well-being of working Americans. Be sure, this weekend to not just embrace Monday, but the importance of Sunday as well.

This Labor Day weekend, pay homage to those generations before you that marched, sat in, fought, lived, and died so that workers of all creeds, colors, backgrounds, nationalities, religions, genders, and ranging abilities had economic, political, and social rights that resonated in the grander fabric of a nation.

Whatever you have planned for this weekend, WORK IT!

Take a road trip with nowhere particular in mind. BBQ. Play. Swim. Laze. Do whatever it is you want to do. Have fun at a kegger pool party. Go crazy rooting for the home team at the ball game. Enjoy dinner with friends. Don’t feel guilty about sitting on the couch binge watching Marcella on Netflix with a bowl of cheesy popcorn in your lap.

Don’t fret if you have to actually work. Frankly, we celebrate and thank you the most!

Raise your coffee, tea, lemon water, beer, fine (or box) wine, or cocktail and toast to those we’ve loved and lost due to poor and unsafe working conditions. It is because of them that we work safer and healthier today.

Once you’ve done that, get to celebrating! This weekend is about you. This weekend is about the working role that you play as a critical brick in the foundation of a nation.

Whatever you do, be safe, be well, and take good care of each other. We, each and every one of us depend on you – as we are all one from the many.

I have failed at more things than can be listed in a blog or in a volume of encyclopedias for that matter.

I started this one in hopes of putting “on computer screen” what a great big family means to this great big girl. It was created out of a deep passion for sharing what family means to someone who wasn’t able to make her own.

Oh God, I thought – without kids, who is going to take care of us when we are old?!?! Well, surely if I create a blog about how important family is and when that time comes… someone – anyone?? – will step up and make sure I have sunlight, food, water, and a place (that isn’t my pants) to pee.

I got two blog posts (great ones!) in. I stopped. I failed.

[I also have a plan to put together a cookbook – rich with recipes from family members that they can pass on and on. That one – I will not give up on no matter that my glorious Aunt Marie is the only person in 3 years to send me (snail mail!) a few old school recipes. Thank you, Aunt Marie and Martha!]

A few years ago, I wanted to create a business called “D.I.Buy” with my sissy/bestie, Jennifer.

I dreamt it up after many, many (many!) drinks in the backyard hanging with my homie hubby on a Saturday afternoon. Sure, everyone can “DIY”, but who wants to actually go to the craft or home improvement store and make all the stuff?? Not me. Wouldn’t it be SO cool, if instead of DIYing, you could just have all of the bits and pieces (wood, felt, screws, glue, glitter, light bulbs, unicorn dust, etc.) show up at your doorstep? All the elements arrive neatly packaged and delivered by the man in brown that make up that cool wine bottle/cheese tray/night light/shoe horn/iPhone case? Don’t want to put it together? That’s ok – me either – just pay a small fee and we’ll put it together for you and none of your friends will know your dirty little secret. Who wants DIY, when you can just D.I.Buy it? A sure fire success!

I stopped. I failed.

Once, I had the idea that I wanted to create a top for to-go cups that was the top and the straw. Not a top. And a straw. But a top/straw. Less parts, less spillage. I have no idea how they would stack together in a box or on display, who cares, it’s genius. Now that straws are all but outlawed, I surely would have been wanted for top/straw treason.

I stopped. Well, thank goodness I never got started. I failed.

I’m good at making something out of nothing. Mostly, in the kitchen. I can take a can of chick peas, a parmesan rind, some chia seeds, a peanut butter patty, half a leftover green smoothie, and some frozen spinach and turn it into a killer dip or falafel-esque invention. Wouldn’t it be cool to start a YouTube channel called, The Escapades of Pantry Girl and her Vitamix? I’d have more followers than Katie Perry! This birdy would fly away with her Twitter crown.

I do this (and film it in my head) and I fail regularly, but my husband eats it. Yay, win!

I have failed at academia, corporate America, edgy start ups, direct sales, Nerium, Stella & Dot and so much more.

All this noisy background brings me to now.

This morning, I lay awake reading a book my friend and colleague required I read if I were to be any kind of self-respecting entrepreneur. A book brilliantly written by one of her marketing professors. It is called “KNOWN: The handbook for building and unleashing your personal brand in the digital age” by Mark Schaefer. This is not an endorsement, but I do recommend checking it out.

It’s about how to be steadfast about making yourself known. Not famous or even infamous, but known. In the book, he shares great stories as inspiration. Stories about regular people that identify a niche (both blase and weird), stick to it, and become locally or internationally known YouTube stars, 1 million follower bloggers, and global keynote speakers.

My favorite story may be Brazilian Isadora Becker – a chef who dresses up as characters as she makes dishes famous in films, books, and history. Girl – the only word I know in Portuguese is queijo. I don’t need to understand what you are saying to know that you give queijo muito gusto!

Point after point, example after example, that even a DIBuy, big girl from a big family without one of her own, top/straw scofflaw, “failure” can become known if she puts her mind to it. But what could it be???

Then it clicked! (Bare with me.)

I started this blog eons ago. Averaging 1 blog post per Presidential Administration. I called it “onefromthemany” in honor of the Great Seal of the United States. E Pluribus Unum.

Out of Many, One.

It symbolized at the time (defacto US motto before “In God We Trust” took over) – out of the original 13 US colonies, emerged one nation. Beautiful, right?

It resonated with me back then and still very powerfully does today.

Then for the first time since the Obama Administration (sigh!), I had an email show up in my AOL (yes!) account that someone new was following my “blog”. Huh????? That thing is still around? How do I even access it? What’s my password? Is there a password?? And who the heck is this lady? She must be lost. Very lost.

It was a sign from the Gods. Or the lost lady on the internet looking for a blog about Colonial America or Latin trivia. I bet you didn’t realize it lost internet lady, you were the click that launched a thousand ships!

I realized (at 4:00 am) today (tonight?) laying awake in bed, too hot from all the furry creatures snuggled up against me – dog, husband, dog – and the glow from my iPad getting known book – that wait, yes, I am good at something. Something I will not fail at (dangling preposition), nor (used without neither) will it fail me. (Clearly, written English and its pal grammar fail me.)

Health and Safety.

Technically, that is two things, but really there is no health without safety and surely no safety without health.

Not my own, mind you – oh gracious, for those that know me, know I break, tear, injure, and destroy everything – but worker health and safety.

I am absolutely abound with luck to co-run an organization called the International Safety Center. We focus on protecting those who care for others. Specifically, protecting those working in all sorts of healthcare settings from exposure to infectious disease, mainly bloodborne pathogens like HIV, hepatitis viruses, and the scary emerging bugs. These exposures happen mostly from needlesticks, injuries from contaminated surgical instruments, and disgusting splashes of blood or body fluids to the face when PPE is not being worn.

Our tagline is “Safer Workers | Better Healthcare”. We envision a day where there are no occupational infections or illnesses.

We work tirelessly to write, lecture, teach, present, and analyze data in hopes that by understanding how these exposure incidents occur, we can help healthcare institutions around the world better protect their workers. In a world so laser focused on patient safety – I always say – without healthcare workers, there simply is no healthcare.

So, here’s what hit me like a ton of stainless steel surgical instruments – and a surgical robot to boot.

One from the Many. Yes, from 13 colonies emerged one nation (no comment on barbaric and hubris tactics here), but from the single worker (you, me, your kid, your mom, your brother-in-law, even your dog), emerges the great many (all of us, together).

The teacher, the nurse, the truck driver, the trash hauler, the farmer, the iPhone box packer, the fisherwoman, the sales rep, the Grandmom raising her kid’s kids, the executive assistant, the prison guard, the painter, the engineer, the financial analyst, the crane operator, the stay at home Dad, the house cleaner, the barista, the YOU – they are the ONES, that make us the Mighty Many. Without them doing their jobs, you simply can’t do yours.

Starting today, this blog is dedicated to them. It is dedicated to you, the work that you do, your ability to do it as safely as possible, and the responsibility your employer and your workplace has to keep you safe, so you can return home to your family, friends, and fur babies, healthy and well.

onefromthemany.com is now a blog dedicated to advancing the health and safety of working global citizens.

I will not fail you.

It won’t be pretty. It may not be pithy. But it sure will be honest and real. It will promise to fill a much needed gap and it sure as heck will come from the heart.

Without those who work – no matter the job or the size (or lack) of a paycheck – whether we are 13 colonies, 50 states, or 195 countries – we are simply a lot of ones missing the opportunity to be the mighty many.

This next series of blogs will be dedicated to sharing family stories and recipes that elicit love, comfort, and wonderful memories. The best part is at the end – read all the way through. You’re welcome.

And, since this is “onefromthemany” – one of the many that I’m from is Catherine “Cathy” Louise Culwell. She was the 6th of the 7 Culwell children. She is the littlest one in my mom’s lap in this photo. Aunt Fran was next to come and would round out the Culwell 7!

Aunt Cathy passed away several years ago now and I have some of the fondest memories of my life with her. I’ll share them with you.

When I think of Aunt Cathy, I think of books, juicy ripe tomatoes, and a deep love of nature.

Aunt Cathy was one of my best friends as a kid. I spent summers with my Grandparents at their house in Mt. Airy, MD. Since my Grandparents were busy most days at my Granddad’s medical office in town – if I wasn’t in fish mode at the local pool – the Ridge Swim Club (my Gram was one of the founders) – I was with Aunt Cathy. I’d call her “My Cathy”. For years, I called her that. Actually, until she died, I called her that.

The Culwell House

The room at the very top of the house with the air conditioner in the window was her room, her floor actually. I spent so many hours up there with her, that it was a second home to me.

She was a voracious reader. I mean, she’d read several books A DAY! She would suit me up many days, even as a kindergartener – and we’d walk down Main Street to the library. She would get stacks of books each week. So many that we’d have to take breaks walking back to the house so that our backs didn’t seize up from the weight. She read all kinds of books, mostly romance, art, and nature.

She was a lover of nature – oh boy. Animals, horses mostly, flowers, plants, bugs – she didn’t discriminate. When I was 4 or 5, I remember announcing to her that I wanted to be a horse when I grew up. Or a back hoe. I don’t know, so don’t ask.

She also loved flowers. She was a talented artist. Drawing, painting, needlepoint. I have many of her pieces now that my husband and I cherish.

When my Grandparents passed away, she moved to Rainsville, AL in the years following to take care of an elderly woman that needed close watching over in her twilight years. The family was so grateful to Cathy – that they gave her land — or maybe sold her land for a dollar — and she built a cute, little house. A place all her own

Rainsville is a beautiful place! It sits atop Sand Mountain on the northern end of the state. It is one of the prettiest places in the US. And… home to … drum rollllll…. the band Alabama! They even have a museum in their hometown, neighboring Fort Payne. While interesting, I don’t recommend making the trip just for the museum – sorry guys.

Trivia Alert — little known fact about the State of Alabama – it is the most populous rural state of the 50 United States. Why? Um, because it’s beautiful, aren’t you listening? You’ll drive along the hillsides and see them peppered with homesteads, big and small.

Aunt Cathy’s next door neighbors (the family of the woman that she had taken care of for years) had dozens and dozens of animals. Goats, dogs, donkeys, geese, and lots and lots of martin houses. Ne’er did see one of those elusive birds, but sure did see lots of houses.

Some animal pets from her neighbor’s place.

When we visited My Cathy, one of our favorite things to do was to go to nearby Mentone. A gorgeous small mountain town. We’d go the slow way – riding through small country towns and lots and lots of chicken farms. She’d point out where damage was from this tornado or that tornado. See, I told you she loved nature. All nature, even Mother Nature’s fury.

During one of our drives, she wanted to stop by and see some horses. One of her nurses had a place with champion ancestor Appaloosas.

Cathy and the Appas

They are just magnificent! Majestic. Strong. One could watch them prance and play for days. How Cathy loved them.

During our long, winding drives, we’d always stop by two places – Miracle Pottery – a gorgeous little hillside shop and studio – and a little cafe that had an attached country store – the Wildflower Cafe.

I have some of my all time favorite pieces from Miracle, including a microwave omelet and bacon maker! This is their cobbler bowl. What I love most about their pieces is that they are oven and microwave safe. Functional and beautiful.

The Wildflower Cafe – now, now, y’all – they had the most amazing… I mean to consider selling your first child… amazing Tomato Pie. Here’s their website: http://www.mentonewildflower.com/ If you ever find yourself in that region of the country, go!

And because I care for your well-being so much, I’ll share the recipe here with you. I’ll message you my address just in case you do want to send me that first kid of yours in gratitude.

Wildflower served it as I remember with slices of buttery toast – the kind that you butter, then slap on the griddle. Alabama’s version of Texas Toast. You don’t need the toast, the pie alone is enough to sustain life for centuries to come.

Since it’s summer – and summer comes with juicy, ripe tomatoes. I also remember platters of freshly sliced tomatoes served at my Grandparent’s House. Straight from the garden. Oh, I can still smell that smell – you know the one, when you pick a fresh tomato…earthy, green, fresh. It lingers on your finger tips, like a natural perfume. Gram and Cathy would pick them, slice them up in thick slices and would put them on the dining room table. That alone was dinner some nights. Cathy would plop a dallop of mayo on top of those bad boys and go to town.

When Granddad got home from birthing most of Carroll, Frederick, and Howard County’s babies; we’d listen to the O’s on the radio. I thought I was going to marry either Cal Ripken or Eddie Murray back then. Ray Knight, a close third. Maybe he would’ve been the best man. Although if I had stuck to my 4 or 5 year old dream and been either a horse or a back hoe, I don’t know how that would’ve worked.

So… that’s My Aunt Cathy. Part of her anyway. A gentle, kind woman who loved books, nature, and her family – more than anyone I’ve ever known. I’m grateful to be one from the many like her.

Without them, there is no me – this one big girl. Without them, there is no Great Big Wonderful World. This is dedicated to them.

Two.

It is a historic nod to the motto of our great country “E Pluribus Unum” – which means – “From Many, One”. It is meant to describe the strength in the union of many and for Ben Franklin and his fellow Statesman in 1776, it was meant to inspire strength and cohesiveness modeled after early European mottos – we are not one country, one organization, one organism – without the strength of many coming together. The banner is carried by the great American bald eagle on our US currency, but it’s more than the dolla, dolla bill, y’all – it’s about a vision for a world united by the strength of each of its individual parts. Us.

What to expect from this blog: It is dedicated to putting down on “paper” memories, dreams, inspirations, and good stuff that we all need more of. You may see some family stories, some shared adventures, some mouth watering shared recipes, some equally mouth watering beer/wine/spirit experiences (I just couldn’t not include those), some embarrassing and funny stories about friends, and some uplifting photos or links.

[Note: Names of said family and friends may be changed to protect… well… me from them.]

What not to expect: It will not bitch, moan, or otherwise provide unhappiness.

Why now?

It was created, rather unexpectedly, out of a sad event in my family’s life – the passing this week of my Uncle Paul Warfield Culwell. He had a long struggle with cancer and is survived by his wife – my Aunt Pat Culwell. Our hearts are with her. Uncle Paul and I actually went through cancer treatment at the same time in 2006 and I swear he wore bald much better than I did!

See, I come from a big family, as I mentioned. My Uncle Paul was the eldest of 7 in the Culwell clan. Son to Dr. William “Bill” Burk Culwell and Margaret Eugenia “Jean” Warfield Culwell. My Gram – Jean – was the eldest of 10. My Gram was my heart and soul. My happy, safe place. Neither she nor my Granddad are with us anymore.

Gram’s family was raised at Historic “Bite the Skinner” or “Heritage” Farm – one of the first brick federal style homes built in Howard County, MD. The house was built in 1812, the year her great grandfather returned from fighting in the War of 1812.

Bite the Skinner

The ancestors of her parents – Bernard and Josephine Warfield – are my aunts and uncles and cousins and they are MANY. Hundreds of them. I’m proud of them and most of all I’m proud that my husband Chris and I are in their lives.

This is just my generation of cousins and many were missing! Lots y’all, lots of us!

Back to my Uncle Paul – he was big brother to – in order of birth – Mark, John, Jane (my mom), Carol, Cathy, and Fran.

Here they are as the family grows. SO cute!

My Mom, Uncle John, and Aunt Cathy have also passed on. Other than me, the 4 of them have no children to keep their stories alive in our hearts. My husband and I weren’t lucky enough to have kids of our own, so the buck may stop here.

This blog is designed to do that – to not stop the buck. To keep their memories alive in our hearts and to create and share new ones. If angels have computers or blogs reach heaven (and I think they do), they will see this. Hi!

The Culwells aren’t exactly open books, so they may be collectively rolling their eyes. Oh well. A risk I run.

I hope I’m up for the challenge. Most of all, I hope you read and enjoy this labor of love. Please contribute! Please share! Please tell me if I get details wrong. And please, please share and add more. Guest bloggers are welcome!

I hope to also include stories and memories from my Dad’s family – the Stanleys – as well as from my married family – the Mitchells. If they’re up for it, that is. They are wonderful. The more, the merrier. The more the many, the stronger the one… right?